


Leave The Light On

by emansil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:45:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emansil/pseuds/emansil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry decided not to leave for the winter hols, he wasn’t aware Draco would be staying as well. Nor was he aware that the next two weeks would bring him his one desire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave The Light On

As Harry turned to head back to the castle, a shock of white blond hair, heading towards Hogsmeade, caught his eye. Malfoy. He hadn’t realised Draco would be staying at Hogwarts as well. He’d never said. Then again why wouldn’t he? His father was in Azkaban and his mother was currently living in-- Harry thought, Argentina, or was it Albania? He was pretty sure it was one of those A countries. Harry’s plans for the afternoon changed, and he hoped maybe the rest of the break.  
  
Harry had just watched his friends board the Hogwarts Express for home. Pretty much everyone he knew had left to return home for the holidays. Except for him, there was nowhere he wanted to go or anyone he especially wanted to see.  
  
Ron and Hermione had both decided not to return to Hogwarts, and Harry hadn’t seen them since they’d waved goodbye to him at King’s Cross. He supposed he should want to see them, but they were now engaged and full of wedding plans. Ron had chosen Guy Fawkes Day to propose, and it was a surprise to no one that she had said yes. The thought of wedding planner Hermione was a bit terrifying.  
  
Instead he’d chosen to stay at Hogwarts. How he’d spend his time, he wasn’t sure. Studying for NEWT’s, especially Potions, was always an option. With the change in his plans from Auror to Healer, he really needed an O in Potions. Somehow, though, he doubted much studying would be done. He imagined it would depend on how bored he got over the next two weeks. There was that stack of Josephine Tey mystery novels to get through, which should keep him rather busy. His afternoon had been set.  
  
Only now, perhaps his plans were going to change.  
  
When and how exactly it had happened, he wasn’t sure. It had started off slowly. Advanced Potions, which Harry needed for his new career choice, had a new professor. She was young and this was her first teaching position. Not a graduate of Hogwarts, she knew none of their names and insisted they sit alphabetically, at least for the first few weeks. Harry and Draco had ended up sharing a brewing table together. Once the new professor had learned their names, she gave everyone permission to sit where they wished. Harry and Malfoy both chose to stay where they were.  
  
Harry had been surprised to see Malfoy enter into the classroom, surely Malfoy had taken the class before. Hadn’t he passed his NEWT’s on it while Harry had been on Horcrux hunt? When he’d questioned him about it, Malfoy had only said, “I failed, well not failed exactly, but I didn’t score high enough for an apprenticeship in Potions Research and Development.”  
  
It had been rather bizarre at first, neither of them saying anything to the other except for the odd; “Could you please turn the cauldron down, unless you want to blow up the classroom and our fellow classmates?” Or the occasional, “please go and get more of the “fill in the blank” you just destroyed so we can finish the assignment.” Both of these requests, unsurprisingly, came from Malfoy to Harry. However, what had been surprising was that Malfoy never said any of it with contempt, which had just been weird. Harry did have a brief return of “I wonder what Malfoy’s up to” fever, but quickly quelled it.  
  
Eventually they had moved to discussing the others in the class. Why they might be taking it; what they wanted to accomplish with their lives; what their plans were; as well the different romantic entanglements of their classmates. Malfoy had asked about Ginny and had given Harry a rather pondering look at Harry’s admission they were no longer together. When Harry had told him about Ron and Hermione’s engagement, Malfoy had questioned the intelligence of them making plans for their future, when they’d only ever been with one another. He felt they both needed to spend time with others, before making a decision that long lasting.  
  
“But Ron spent all that time with Lavender Brown. He already knows Hermione’s the one,” Harry pointed out. “When you know, you know.”  
  
“Didn’t you once think Ginny Weasley was the one?” Draco asked. “And now, from what you’ve told me, you’re completely broke up. What happened there?”  
  
Harry hadn’t said anything, because really, how could he? How could he tell Draco Malfoy that the reason he and Ginny had broken up was because Harry had been unable to get the feel of Draco pressed up against him out of his mind. The hard planes and contours of Draco’s chest pressed up against him, Draco’s arm around Harry’s waist, holding tight to him, as Harry’d flown them to safety. After that day, Ginny’s soft and perky breasts had failed to arouse him, while the thought of another man’s, Draco’s, made him ache with desire. Eventually he and Ginny had just given up trying.  
  
Nor could he forget the look in Draco’s eyes at the manor when he’d refused to identify Harry. How easily he’d given in, letting Harry take his wand. It was almost as if Draco had been saying, “Okay, Potter, I’m letting you out of this. Now, go and save the world, and if you can manage to save me in the process, that’ll be good as well.” And Harry had-- along with all the rest of them. Now Harry wanted Draco, didn’t want to save him. Just wanted him.  
  
“Lavender Brown, really? Weasley was with her? But she was so hot.” Harry started, realising Draco had returned to the subject of Ron and Lavender, had moved past Harry and Ginny. The silence lay heavy between them.  
  
“When were Ron and Lavender together?" Malfoy eventually continued. “How did I miss that?”  
  
“The only way you could have missed it would have been if you were extremely preoccupied. It was the talk of the school. They were found snogging, and er, other things all over the place.”  
  
They both were aware of what other things had kept Malfoy _extremely preoccupied_. There was really no need to say anything else on the subject.  
  
It was that non-conversation about Malfoy’s past, more than anything, which seemed to break the ice. Malfoy, while he’d been pleasant enough, had retained an air of guarded protection about himself. Now he relaxed and began to open up.  
  
Harry began to see why the other Slytherins had found Malfoy so charming. Harry kept stumbling between the Malfoy he thought he’d known all these years and the Draco he only now was beginning to meet. Witty and intelligent, this was the Draco, Harry wanted to know. And not just because of the desire loosed in the Room of Requirement that day.  
  
How it had first happened, Harry couldn’t remember. Though, if he thought about it, it was probably inevitable. Each of them had been casting glances at one another, laughing and joking and shushing the other whenever the professor came towards them with that look on her face. The one, where if she’d been Snape or McGonagall or even Professor Flitwick, detention or the removal of house points would have been the result. One day Harry had simply held his arm down by his side, while listening to the lecture, Draco (and when had he started thinking of him as Draco and not Malfoy?) had let his arm rest down by his side as well. He then reached out with his pinkie finger and curled it around Harry’s. Harry had shot a glance in his direction. Draco had only smiled at him. Harry had returned the smile. He’d also left his finger and hands exactly where they were.  
  
They’d held hands, or rather pinkie fingers, for the rest of the class. And every class after that for the rest of the week, though on the third day Harry had managed to Gryffindor his way into full hand holding. But that was all; when class ended they’d walk to the door, no longer holding hands, say their good-byes and go to their other classes.  
  
Advanced Potions was the only class they had together. They held hands and talked and laughed before and during class, careful to avoid the displeasure of the professor. And day by day, Harry found he wanted more. He just wasn’t sure how to go about it. Somehow, grabbing Draco in the hall, or in class and snogging the breath out of him hadn’t seemed the appropriate solution.  
  
Now, Draco was sauntering (yes that was the only word for it) slowly down the path in front of him. A brisk wind blew up bringing a chill to the air. Draco stuck his hands in his jacket pocket, pulling it tighter across his arse. A view, Harry had learned, he could truly appreciate. He battled briefly between continuing to gaze from afar, or hurrying to catch up and actually speak to him.  
  
He watched for a few seconds longer, slowly quickening his pace, continuing to enjoy the view as he did. Eventually he caught up with Draco, just as he was about to enter The Three Broomsticks. Rumour had it that Draco had brought flowers and chocolates, and had offered to do all sorts of things for Madam Rosmerta, from cleaning the loos to replacing the candles. As well, he’d reportedly given her an honest, and for a Slytherin, sincere apology for what he had done. And all was well between them.  
  
She greeted Draco with genuine delight, verification that all was truly well between them. They chatted rapidly about their plans for the holidays, before she realised Harry was there as well. She nodded a brief hello to him, and then ran off to try to find seats for the others in front of them.  
  
“Harry? I didn’t know you were staying over the holidays. Don’t you usually spend your hols with the Weasley family?” Draco’s voice, while surprised, seemed honestly pleased.  
  
“I decided not to this year. Things are going to be even more chaotic than usual with Ron and Hermione planning their wedding. Not to mention the whole feeling like a third wheel thing.” He shrugged; he’d had enough of that over the past year. “There’s no one else I care that much about seeing. I can always use the time, as well the peace and quiet of an empty common room, to catch up on my studying.”  
  
Draco slanted an eyebrow at that comment. “Study? Really? Without Granger?”  
  
“Shut up. I study.” Harry turned, a flush rising to his cheeks.  
  
It was then Harry realised just exactly how crowded the place was. Every table in the place seemed to be taken, and the queue waiting was longer than he’d even seen it, including Hogsmeade weekends. “Whatever is going on? I’ve never seen it this busy,” he muttered, looking around the crowded pub.  
  
“I understand it’s always like this the first day Hogwarts students return home for the holidays.” Draco answered him. Those words were followed quickly by a hissed, “Fuck, there’s Smith. He thinks I like him, just because I blew him one time. Thinks we’re a couple. Please, Harry, save me.”  
  
Harry, having gone a little sick at the sudden and unexpected return of his long forgotten Chest Monster, at Draco’s words, not to mention the thought of Draco’s lips on Smith’s cock and not Harry’s, straightened and turned to look immediately for Smith, willing him to look their way.  
  
Once he knew he had Smith’s full attention, Harry did the only sensible thing there was to do at a time like this. Something he’d wanted to do since the moment he’d realized that all he could think about was Malfoy pressed up against him. His arm around Harry’s waist, holding on for dear life, screaming and crying in his ear, the sweat and the smell of the fire on them. The scent had been ghastly, but still Harry found the remembrance of that day made him hard. Those memories plus the friendship he and Draco had started in Advanced Potions had only made Harry want him more. Now Draco was giving him an opportunity Harry hadn’t dared hope he would ever get, and Harry intended to make the most of it. After all, he could have been sorted Slytherin.  
  
Harry wrapped one arm around Malfoy’s waist and slowly drew him toward him. With the other arm he reached out and cupped the back of Malfoy’s neck pulling Draco’s head down until their lips touched and Harry kissed him.  
  
It was not just a kiss, but a full on snog. Bless the stars and the moon above, Draco kissed him back.  
  
Immediately Malfoy’s tongue was everywhere. Chasing Harry’s and then retreating for Harry’s to come and recapture it.  
  
When the kiss broke, Harry was left panting and wanting more. Immediately visions of the two of them exploded in his head: The holidays spent together, one on one Quidditch, reviewing for the NEWT’s together, staying up late snogging and then curled up in bed after shagging, waking early and turning to ravish the other in a repeat performance from the night before, snuggling in the bed together late in the mornings. _Fuck,_ he was all but ready to ask Malfoy to move into Gryffindor with him so they could spend every moment together. And just from one snog.  
  
He looked up to see Draco looking back at him. Draco’s mouth was open and his breathing was out of kilter. Slowly, Draco’s tongue came out, licked his lower lip, making it wet and luscious, and even more snoggable. He then swallowed and glanced nervously around. “Well. That seemed to have done the trick. Smith is now frozen solid to the floor. I don’t think he could move if all the Death Eaters in the world were after him.”  
  
“Perhaps we should do it again. Just in case he didn’t get the message,” Harry suggested, as his Chest Monster was jumping up and down demanding that Harry go and wipe the floor with Smith.  
  
A smile lit up Draco’s face, causing Chester, (if Harry was going to be living with a Chest Monster, he felt in only prudent he give it a name) to sigh in joy. He said, “I’ve no objection to rubbing his nose in it.”  
  
This time it was Draco that pulled Harry towards him and bent down to Harry’s lips, first lightly sucking Harry’s top lip in between his own and then licking a swipe across the bottom one. Harry reached his arm out, wrapped it around Draco’s waist bringing them even closer together. Harry’s mouth parted, and Draco’s tongue was everywhere. Harry’s gladly followed it on a merry chase. All too soon, he had to breathe again. It was necessary for life, but fuck if he wanted to; he could gladly go on kissing Draco Malfoy for the rest of the holidays. Longer even.  
  
“Ah boys, I have a table ready for you if you’d like. But if you’re going to continue in that fashion you might prefer to go to Madam Puddifoot’s, or perhaps a return to your dorm rooms might be more appropriate.” Madam Rosmerta said with some degree of exasperation. The other patrons around them laughed nervously, at last beginning to realize exactly who it was standing in line with them.  
  
Harry felt the heat rise and noticed Draco’s face was just as pink as his felt.  
  
“Well? What’s it going to be?” Draco asked when the others had stopped gawking and had returned to their own conversations.  
  
What Harry wanted was to take Draco back to their dorms. Either one, he didn’t much care. Strip him of all his clothes and have his way with him, especially anything that included Harry’s cock and Draco’s mouth. Instead, he chose to embrace his inner Hufflepuff. Well, maybe not Hufflepuff, as there was no way he was every setting foot inside Madam Puddifoot’s again, at least not while he was still breathing. “We’re here. We might as well stay.” Excellent, the Ravenclaw inside him had now asserted its rights. All houses present and accounted for.  
  
Rosmerta showed them to an empty table in the back, away from most of the other patrons. For a few moments neither of them said a word. They looked at the table, played with the paper serviette dispenser; balanced the salt shaker on a grain of salt, read the notices on the back wall, anything but look at each other.  
  
Then Draco started nattering on about… well, honesty, Harry hadn’t the faintest idea what he was on about. His mind was too cluttered with: _Holy fuck! I just snogged Draco Malfoy. Twice._ And, _why did Malfoy give Smith a blowjob? Was he just going around offering them up to anyone who wanted one? Was there a queue? Did you have to take a number? And more importantly, why had no one told Harry?_ As these thoughts, and others, wandered around inside his head, Harry stared at Draco, his eyes narrowed, hoping that perhaps he could suss out an answer.  
  
“What?” Draco interrupted Harry’s thoughts. “Do I have something in my teeth? If I do, you’re the one that left it there. They were debris free, when I left the dorm this morning. And the only thing that’s been in there was your tongue.” He winked at Harry. “A quite delicious morsel, I must admit.”  
  
“Why Smith?” Harry blurted out, surprising even himself. Clearly at this moment “Chester” was in control of his mouth.  
  
“You mean why did I blow Smith?” At Harry’s nod, he shrugged. “I don’t know. Right place, right time, too much firewhiskey. Feeling alone, feeling unwanted. All sorts of reasons. Must say, I regret it now,” Draco let out a short bark of laughter. “Fuck, I regretted it ten minutes into it, but you know what they say, ‘once into the fray…’.”  
  
Harry didn’t know anything about the fray; he did know he wanted more answers. “When?”  
  
“When what? You’re rather a man of few words today. Usually you talk my ear off.” Draco again began to play with the salt shaker. “Oh, you mean when did the Malfoy/Smith regrettable cock-sucking take place? Or should that be the regrettable Malfoy/Smith cock-sucking? Either way, it was regrettable. At the beginning of the year, before you and the others returned. Are you ready to order?”  
  
“Could you please explain in more detail?” It really was none of his business, but “Chester” wouldn’t let him stop.  
  
“Okay, look Potter. It was like this. Smith and I came back separate from the rest of the students,” Draco sighed, a sigh that could have battled one of Ron’s or Hermione’s. “It was right at the beginning of the year. Classes hadn’t even started yet. We both flooed in, instead of coming by Hogwarts Express.”  
  
“That’s right! You weren’t on the train.” Harry had forgotten that. “Why not?”  
  
“Professor, I mean Head Mistress McGonagall thought things might be more comfortable for me this way. She thought there could be a lot of unfortunate chatter.”  
  
“I can understand that about you. But why Smith?”  
  
“Surely, you saw the way he tried to run over the first years.”  
  
“Oh yeah, that slimy disgusting wimp of a wizard,” Harry snarled. Oh, how he hated Zacharias Smith! Now he had another reason to add to the already long list.  
  
“Of course if I’d have known the train was going to be Granger and Weasley free, and that you were going to have undertaken a personality transplant, I might have chanced it.”  
  
"So finish telling me about how Smith got to stick his cock down your throat. No, wait, don’t. I don’t think I want to know.”  
  
Draco looked at him with a questioning smile on his face. “Why all the questions? Are you jealous?”  
  
The two sides of Harry fought for dominance. The Gryffindor that was all about bravery and jumping into the fray, (so that’s the fray, Draco was talking about!) even when you had no idea where the fray would end, or even which direction it was going to lead you in. Or the Slytherin side that danced along the edges of honesty always waiting and looking for the best opportunity to get what he wanted. The Gryffindor in him won out this time.  
  
“Yes,” he answered.  
  
“Of who? Me or Smith?”  
  
“What? I don’t understand.”  
  
“Are you jealous that I got to blow Smith, or jealous that it was me blowing him?”  
  
“I would think my calling him a ‘disgusting wimp of a wizard’, would have been the answer to that.”  
  
During the last part of their conversation, Harry had kept his eyes on the table, removing the serviettes by hand, and putting them back in with a flick of his wand. He now raised his eyes to find Draco staring back at him, as if contemplating his answer.  
  
“It is. But there’s something you now want to know. Isn’t there?”  
  
“Fuck, yes. Why haven’t you offered me the same? Or even offered to spend time with me outside of the classroom?”  
  
“I was afraid.”  
  
“Of what? Did you think I would turn you down?”  
  
“Maybe?”  
  
“That’s bollocks. Don’t we hold hands for two hours, three times a week? Did you think I’d run screaming from the classroom in horror?”  
  
There was a minimal shrug from Draco. “Holding hands is not the same as having another bloke offer you a blow job, or hand job, or even a kiss. I wasn’t sure what your response would be, and I don’t take rejection very well.”  
  
Harry rested his elbow on the table, his chin on the back of his hands. “And here I spent all these years thinking you were really intelligent, not Hermione smart, mind you,” moving his head up and down, in a slight nod. “And I always thought you were a gigantic wanker. But now, I see how wrong I was about you being smart. You’re a bloody idiot, if you thought I’d turn you down. How could you not have seen? Well, maybe after that kiss at the door, you’ve come to your senses.”  
  
“It may have reduced my fears a tad.” Draco turned his head slightly to the side. Harry wasn’t sure, but he though he heard Draco mutter, “I saw,” under his breath. For some unfathomable reason it gave Harry hope. And it gave him courage.  
  
“Draco Malfoy, I can say here and now, whenever you wish to offer me a blowjob, I will take it without question and with great enthusiasm.”  
  
Draco smiled and said. “I bet you’d say that to anyone. But I’ll keep it in mind.”  
  
“No. Only you,” Harry answered. Now, he wasn’t positive that was exactly true, as he hadn’t had an opportunity to test it. But it felt true.  
  
Draco paused, colour rising on his neck and face. He turned to look at Harry. “Is that true? Do you mean it?”  
  
“I think so. Yes. You’re the one I dream of, the one I wank to every night.”  
  
Draco’s smile temporarily blinded Harry. It must have deafened him as well, as Draco was talking to him.  
  
“Would you like to?”  
  
“Would I like to what?” Harry’s hearing had chosen to return in mid-conversation.  
  
“Would you like to hear the words: ‘Harry I want to blow you.’?”  
  
Suddenly Harry’s tongue was too big for his mouth or maybe his mouth was just too full of saliva, because there wasn’t room for both. Instead of speaking he just nodded. Really, really fast in case he’d waited too long and Draco might think the answer was no.  
  
He leaned over and whispered in Harry’s ear, the heat of his mouth doing funny and desperate things to Harry’s cock. “Harry, I want to…, I mean I’d like to… Oh fuck, I can’t.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Harry sighed as well. Truthfully, his was probably more of a whine than a sigh, if he thought about it. “You can’t say it. Or you don’t want to do it?” he asked.  
  
“Oh, no, I want to do it, just not yet. I want to spend time with you first. I don’t want it to be just a one off.” Draco’s face wrinkled in an expression of confusion. “What the fuck is happening to me? I’ve never cared before whether it was a one off or not.”  
  
Harry nodded cool and calm on the outside. But inside, he was doing a tap dance fit for a London musical. Draco wanted to spend time with him! “I’d like that as well. Not, mind you that I would turn it down if you wanted to offer me one. But I can wait. Should we order?”  
  
“I understand the cottage pie is exceptionally good here. Have you ever had it?” Draco asked.  
  
Harry stood to go and place their order. Draco stopped him. “Wait. I’ve changed my mind.”  
  
Harry couldn’t even say he was surprised. When Harry looked back at him, Draco was smiling. He didn’t have to be so fucking happy about jilting him. Harry thought. .  
  
Draco pulled Harry back into the chair and then leaned over and whispered in Harry’s ear, once again the heat of his mouth doing the same desperate things to Harry’s cock. “Harry, I want to blow you. I want to take your cock, and wrap my mouth around it. I want it to lay thick and heavy on my tongue. And then drag my tongue along the thick vein that runs up your cock. Swirl it around the head, licking and tasting the precome that’s gathered there. Then suck your cock back down. Deep throating you till I’m almost gagging on it.”  
  
Harry couldn’t help it. A long and needy whimper, escaping from him, interrupted Draco’s soliloquy. Fucking hell, he was going to come. Right here and right now, if Draco kept talking. However if he stopped, Harry would most likely self-combust.  
  
Draco pulled away from him and leaned back in his chair. “I’m starved. Why don’t you go order us that cottage pie? We could share, if you’d like.”  
  
Harry’s ability to talk had been interrupted by his brain trying to catch up with the fact that Draco had returned to talking about eating. At a time like this! Now Harry was going to have to walk across the crowded pub with a tent in his trousers that small children could sleep under.  
  
“What? Now? But I thought… I mean you…. What the fuck, Draco?”  
  
“Oh, you thought I meant now, as in I want to blow you right now? I need sustenance first.”  
  
“I’ll gladly give you sustenance, if we could just leave The Three Broomsticks,” Harry muttered under his breath, as he tried to decide which he would do first: order or throttle Draco Malfoy. Throttling was looking to be the undisputed winner.  
  
“Harry? Did you just make a joke? A very bad one, but a joke none the less.” Draco laughed softly and stood. “Come on, let’s get out of here. There’s plenty of food in my room. Plus, I have it on good authority that the Hogwarts house elves are at your beck and call. I’m sure they’d be willing to bring us any additional sustenance we may require.”  
  
“Do you mean…? Are you going…?” Suddenly Harry was very nervous. Why he didn’t know. It wasn’t like this would be his first. Ginny had gifted him with such on a few occasions, but that just it. Ginny’s had always made him feel that she was doing it just as a favour to him. Not because she really wanted to. Harry very much needed Draco to want to.  
  
“Maybe, maybe not.” Draco turned and winked at him. “We’ll see. It all depends.”  
  
“On what?” He only wanted to know the rules, according to Draco, going in, so he could follow them properly.  
  
“On how much you continue to annoy me about the subject.” Draco replied with some annoyance. “Just shut up about it. It will or it won’t happen, and you won’t be any worse off than you are now.” Draco grabbed his jacket from the coat stand near the door, and headed out.  
  
 _Oh, I don’t know about that. I think I’m going to be a lot worse off, now that I know you’re prone to giving them out willy-nilly to just anyone._ Wisely he chose not to share those thoughts. Just enjoyed the view of Draco’s arse, before he snatched up his own coat and followed Draco out the door.  
  
***  
  
He hadn’t lied; Draco had lots of food in his dorm, but most of it was things that Harry had never heard of, and those he tried he found to be too rich for his taste. They ended up going to the kitchen where they ordered a massive helping of cheesy and creamy mac and cheese, along with bangers and mash, along with massive amounts of treacle tart and crème Brule for afters.  
  
When they’d finished, they lay together across Draco’s bed, holding hands, moaning and groaning. And not in the way Harry had hoped.  
  
Eventually their stomachs settled, and quiet descended. It was nice. Harry’s eyes closed and he was just on the borderline of falling asleep. The pressure in the mattress next to him shifted, and the breath of another wafted across his skin. His eyes opened as Draco’s lips lighted on his. It wasn’t the same as the kiss at the Three Broomsticks, but just as powerful and just as enticing. Draco’s lips, warm and soft and pliable, danced across Harry’s like some famous Russian ballerina he’d once watched on the telly at Mrs Figg’s one summer. Torn between just sitting back and enjoying the performance and wanting to jump in and participate himself, Harry chose the latter. Draco’s hum of appreciation told him he had chosen correctly.  
  
Draco pulled back, and Harry captured his face with his hands. He needed to see. Draco looked back with eyes the colour of the clouds of the Scottish sky in the heart of winter. Harry lost himself for a moment in those eyes.  
  
Draco’s lips descended again, this time with more fierceness, more intensity. The kiss was bold and demur, dominant and submissive, giving and demanding. Harry’s heart nearly pounded out of his chest, trying to know what Draco wanted from him.  
  
The touch of Draco’s fingers unbuttoning Harry’s shirt, button by button, slow and easy had Harry wanting to speak, wanting to say something, but what? “I…” he started. Draco put his finger on Harry’s mouth, “Shh,” and shook his head. He continued to unbutton Harry’s shirt and at each exposure of skin placed a tiny kiss in the newest space. The last button undone, Harry’s shirt fell open.  
  
Draco spread open Harry’s shirt to where it fell off the shoulders, Harry leaned up and Draco pushed it the rest of the way off. The tips of his fingers skated across Harry’s skin, detouring to circle around Harry’s nipples, bringing them to rigid peaks. “Hmm, nice. Very nice.”  
  
Harry chuckled nervously, “I’m glad you think so. I’d hate to disappoint.”  
  
Draco leaned forward, his lips again, so close to Harry’s. “There is nothing about you or today that has disappointed me.” His lips met Harry’s.  
  
Again this kiss was different from the others. This was like playing Quidditch on a blustery day in March. Draco’s tongue was the snitch; you never knew where it was going to go, Harry only knew he had to keep up.  
  
Lost in the sensations of Draco’s hands and tongue, Draco’s unexpected pull back had Harry confused. He attempted to regain his composure by focusing on Draco. Eyes now gone storm-tossed sea grey stared back at him. Straddled across Harry, Draco rotated his pelvis forward.  
  
Cock met cock and Harry ejected words of praise to whatever force of the universe or evolution that had created cocks. Especially one that felt this good against his, even through multiple layers of fabric. He grabbed Draco’s bum, cupping his arse and tugged him closer. The friction was incredible. The sole point of their connection lay at that moment in their cocks. And in their eyes as they held each other’s gaze.  
  
Harry was close. Agonizingly and blessedly close.  
  
“No! Stop!” Draco’s words were as harsh as his breathing, and as cruel as anything Harry had been through.  
  
“What?” he stammered. “Why?”  
  
Draco smirked. “I might be ready to make good on that promise.”  
  
“Oh.” There were no other words that could express Harry’s feelings at the moment. His getting up and doing cartwheels or backflips across the room might show his feelings, but words just wouldn’t do.  
  
Deftly Draco unbuckled Harry’s belt and then the buttons and zip of his trousers. Thumbs tucked inside all the parts, including Harry’s y-fronts, Draco said, “Lift up.”  
  
Harry doubted he’d ever followed instruction so fast in his life.  
  
Belt, trousers and y-fronts were pushed down over the curve of his arse, to mid-thigh. There was a moment of laughter when things got held up on his cock, before Draco adjusted the take down properly.  
  
While Draco’s gaze was focused on Harry’s cock, Harry rose up on his elbows, grabbed his wand from the side table, and with a lethal combination of magic and manual dexterity separated Draco from his shirt. Draco’s skin was flawless, like a marble statue. Rather one that someone had dropped and put back together again. Running across his pale chest and shoulder were the harsh jagged scars of the _Sectumsempra Curse._  
  
Inexplicably, the sight of those scars made Harry even harder and made him want Draco Malfoy in his life, even more. He didn’t dare try to understand the reasons for that. He’d dig into the psychological implications of it at a later time. Harry reached up and ran his thumbs along edges, tracing them like he was following the roadways of a map. Navigating the twists and turns and potential road blocks.  
  
Draco had stilled and was staring at Harry. Everything about him had gone still.  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Harry said. He didn’t say, he never meant to hurt him, because they both knew at the time, he had. They both had. There had been so much anger and fear and confusion that day. But Harry had never intended to do this. He could have killed Draco. And as much as he’d sometimes said or wished him in such a state; Harry had never ever, truly meant it. The Room of Requirement, a year later, had proven that.  
  
“I know.”  
  
Only when Draco’s mouth enclosed Harry’s cock, did Harry fully understand and appreciate the full magnificence of a blowjob by one who enjoyed it. Draco hummed appreciatively around Harry as he took just the head into his mouth, sucking and licking at it like it’s some sort of ice-lolly, that’s in danger of melting before he can finish. His tongue circled around and around, dipping into Harry’s slit. First stabbing at it with the tip of his tongue and then flicking that same tongue to catch any precome that might have leaked.  
  
He pulled back and sucked on the head again. Hard, making Harry clench the sheets and tilt his hips, desperate to get more of him in that incredible heat and wet. It was just so warm. Draco pulled back and gazed up at him softly, caressingly.  
  
Harry was captured, caught by an expression in Draco’s eyes, something he’d not often seen on Draco, contentment, joy. Draco was happy. Through the long weeks and short months of their new found friendship, Draco had never looked especially happy or joyful. It wasn’t that he appeared unhappy, necessarily. He was always just okay. As if he had no emotion or was too fearful to show too much.  
  
He didn’t look doubtful or fearful any longer.  
  
Draco never stopped looking up at Harry. His tongue and mouth had never stopped either. The flat of his tongue pressed against the thick vein, followed it up Harry’s cock. Slid his mouth around the head and sucked, his cheeks hollowing, his mouth moving all the way down Harry’s prick until the head tickled against the back of Draco’s throat. Draco made gagging noises, but only for a second. Then Harry felt Draco’s throat relax.  
  
Fuck if Draco wasn’t doing it, deep throating Harry. He was making moaning noises, and he was rolling Harry’s balls in his hand. His hand was exploring behind them, the tip of his finger searching. Nervous, and scared, Harry waited. Wanted it. Didn’t want it. No one had ever. He’d never.  
  
The heat of his orgasm was building. Draco sucked hard, pressed the tip of his finger in. Harry barely felt it, but it was enough. His release shot out of him. Draco sucked and licked milking every drop from Harry’s cock, until it became uncomfortable and Harry had to push him away.  
  
Only, the moment that he did, Harry missed the feeling of Draco near him, touching him. Harry leaned up and stuck his hand out, reaching for him. Draco lifted his head, licking his lips, yet on his chin, a smidge of Harry’s come still clung. Harry yanked him down; he wanted to lick the come off Draco’s chin, wanted to taste himself on Draco and in Draco’s mouth.  
  
Draco fell forward over Harry, crawled the rest of the way up. The kiss was hard and demanding. Without words, Harry knew Draco had not yet had his release. Without asking Draco, Harry knew he had to do it.  
  
Harry’s fingers unbuckled Draco’s trousers. Buttons and zip came next. The weight of the buckle weighed the trousers down, pulling them open. Draco’s cock head protruded from the waistband of his pants. Harry pressed the flat of his hand hard, rubbing against it, increasing the friction, mounting the pressure.  
  
Draco grabbed Harry's hand, pushing it under his pants, wrapped Harry's hand around his prick making him pump it up and down, controlling the speed and firmness; He needed for Harry to jerk him off. Once Harry understood, had it confined to forever memory, Draco removed his hand and clenched Harry’s bicep, holding on.  
  
The kiss was wet and sloppy and hard, and Draco was thrusting, thrusting, thrusting into Harry’s hand. Moaning and whimpering, into Harry’s mouth through their shared breath. And Harry was hyperventilating with how fucking fantastically amazing the feel of Draco’s prick in his hand was.  
  
Draco tried to pull away from the kiss; Harry knew he was near to coming. Understood Draco wanted to say the words, to tell him he was coming. Harry didn’t want to hear it, he wanted to feel it.  
  
As the words poured from Draco’s lips, so did the warm fluid of his release, sliding onto, over and across Harry’s hand. It coated his fingers and palms, as well the back of his hand, dripped from his wrist, ran down the inside of his arm, and heading toward his elbow.  
  
Fuck Harry wanted it all. He kept pumping his hand, milking Draco dry. Only when Draco whimpered in pain did Harry stop. At last he let Draco go, and collapsed back onto the bed. Draco, who’d been holding himself up with just the press of his arms all this time, gazed down at Harry, dazed and shattered. Then he too collapsed on top of Harry, his breathing harsh and ragged and little by little breath by breath Harry felt Draco begin to relax.  
  
Draco turned his head towards Harry, and they shared a gentle kiss. Draco rolled off and after a quick Scourgify of them both, pulled the duvet up on top of them. He snuggled closer, his head on Harry’s chest, an arm and a leg both draped across Harry. Draco fell asleep.  
  
Harry tightened his own hold on Draco, inhaled his scent that surrounded Harry and soon followed him into slumber.  
  
***  
  
“Draco?” Harry said against Draco’s chest. He hated to disturb Draco’s sleep. He tended to get cranky when he didn’t get enough. And with Harry waking him two and three times a night for the past two weeks, he’d been cranky a lot lately. But this was important, Harry had to know.  
  
The winter break was almost over, and Harry wasn’t sure how it was going to affect him.  
  
"Hmm,” Draco barely responded.  
  
“Do you think I’m a sex addict?”  
  
Silence, deep and profound. Then Draco removed his arm from under Harry’s head, rolled over and lit the light with his wand. He turned back towards Harry. “A what?”  
  
“A sex addict.”  
  
“Why would you think that?”  
  
“Because. I want you; I mean it, all the time.”  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and then sat up in the bed, his back against the wall. “Harry, how old are you?”  
  
Harry scowled, what did that have to do with anything. “I’m eighteen. Why?”  
  
“I rest my case. You’re an eighteen year old male. You’re supposed to want sex all the time.”  
  
“I never wanted it _this_ much with Ginny.”  
  
Draco let out a small laugh. “Okay, let me rephrase that. You’re a gay eighteen year old male. That means you’re going to want to have sex with another _man_ , all the time. Even more than straight eighteen year old males”  
  
“You never seem to. At least not as often as I do.”  
  
Draco guffawed outright at that. “No? Have I ever turned you down?”  
  
“You mean?”  
  
“Yes. I want you just as much. The only difference is, you’re not afraid to ask. Gryffindors ask, go after what they want. Slytherins tend to try to manipulate the situation. Your way is faster.” Draco waggled his eyebrows a bit, “as a matter of fact… perhaps. I could… if you’re interested… I could be--” He squawked with laughter as Harry tackled him and pushed him back down on to the bed, kissing him until Draco was breathless.  
  
Harry rolled them over to where he was on the bottom. His legs spread and Draco nestled between them. Things slowed, but intensified. Harry moved his hand down and took hold of Draco’s prick, his hand moving over it, feeling it stiffen and grow under his touch. He wanted, needed Draco inside him. Harry tilted his hips; spread his knees, lifting his legs, opening himself up to and for Draco.  
  
Draco raised his wand to again extinguish the lights. Harry stopped him, with a shake of his head. “Leave the light on.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I want to see you, see your face-- your passion, your desire, your joy-- all of it. When you come, hold it in my memory for when we don’t have this—us-- anymore.”  
  
“Why wouldn’t we have this-us- anymore? Is something changing?” Draco’s voice was trembling, an edge to it.  
  
“The Hogwarts express returns tomorrow. Pansy and Blaise, and the other Slytherins will be on it.”  
  
“Yeah, so?” Are you planning on dumping me when the other Gryffindors get back?” The edge was sharper, more dangerous. Harry heard it, but didn’t acknowledge it.  
  
“I’m not going to dump you, but…” He turned his head away, afraid that his fear would drive Draco away.  
  
“But what?” The edge was beginning to soften, now holding concern and perhaps some confusion.  
  
“You might dump me. I didn’t think you’d want them to know about me. Thought that was the reason why you’d never do more than hold my hand. Not even that, where anyone else could see. Now that they’re returning I figured we’d be over.”  
  
“You thought I’d want to keep this, us, from Pansy or Blaise or any of the other Slytherins? You thought you’d be just a one-off? Or rather a one- off that’s lasted two weeks?” Draco’s expression went from confusion, to understanding and then determination.  
  
Harry looked down at the sheet he held twisting in his hand, but nodded.  
  
“Harry, do you remember that day in class, when you told me about Ron and Hermione being engaged?”  
  
Harry nodded again, almost laughed. He was pretty sure he remembered every word of every conversation he’d had with Draco.  
  
“Remember how you said, “When you know, you know?” Draco’s voice was barely a whisper.  
  
Every cell of Harry was concentrated on Draco and his words. “Yes.”  
  
“I know.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 2013 HD_Owlpost  
> Immense and forever gratitude to capitu for her encouragement, support and above all patience as I struggled to find my way through this. That she did not throw in the towel on this, is testament to her greatness as a cheerleader. Harry was very adamant there needn’t be any plot. He just wanted to get busy with the sexing parts. Finally after weeks of struggle I decided to just listen to him. And to itsjustgwen for coming to my rescue in the final moments and providing a most excellent beta job. A major and massive thank you!  
> To ritalaura2000, I do hope it hit at least some of your wishes and desires. It was a pure joy to write, once I finally learned to listen to Harry.


End file.
